


Rust Bucket

by xenosaurus



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 21:30:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7861780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenosaurus/pseuds/xenosaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky have had the same car since high school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rust Bucket

**Author's Note:**

> GOD THIS IS FINALLY FINISHED. I had so much writers block working on this thing.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy Bucky dealing with change and also having sex.

Steve and Bucky share a car. It's older than they are, with air conditioning that comes and goes at the worst times, peeling paint, and an absolutely hideous interior. Steve ran out of bumper sticker space years ago and had to start overlapping.

Bucky sleeps in it sometimes, when the nightmares get bad.  The backseat still smells a like the horrible cologne Clint wore in high school; he’d spilled it on the way to prom.  If he closes his eyes, Bucky can pretend he's still there, anxious to get their friends out of the car so he has time to make out with Steve before curfew.

His therapist once explained sense memory to him.  She'd been talking about a panic attack Bucky had during a neighborhood bonfire ( _smoke's too thick to breathe, he's blacking out and it hurts--_ ), but Bucky applies it more broadly.

Sometime after midnight, Steve comes down to the parking lot.  Bucky recognizes the footsteps without breaking his staring contest with the stain on the ceiling.

"Hey, Buck."

Steve leans against the side of the car, just his head through the window.  He's a wearing a t-shirt from the youth center he works at and he looks so _old_.  Bucky's caught up in memories of being 17 and then, here's Steve, almost 26.  Just like Bucky is.  Shit.

The silence drags on, Bucky waiting out Steve's patience.

"Mighty lonely up in the apartment with you down here," Steve says, almost conversationally.  He's worried and trying not to show it.  It'd be sweet if it wasn't so obvious.

"Didn't want to wake you," Bucky mutters.  It's not a lie, but it feels like one.

"Come on, Buck, how many times have you kept me company when I was up all night?"

"I don't exactly have the flu here, Stevie."

Steve sighs and combs his fingers through his hair.  He's wearing three silly bands and a beaded bracelet-- presents from the kids at the youth center. He must have forgotten to take them off before bed.

"When'd we grow up?" Bucky asks suddenly, interrupting Steve as he formulates his next argument.  Bucky can't pinpoint the moment they stopped being those dumb teenagers.  Maybe it was leaving for boot camp, or the first time Steve absently went to hold his hand and found nothing there.

"Gradual process, Buck," Steve answers.

"I didn't mean it literally, smartass."

Steve makes a soft noise that might have been laughter in another life.

"Yeah, I know.  Statement stands."

It's hard to tell if Steve is being difficult or philosophical.  Bucky's money is on the former-- not _everything_ has changed since high school.

"You tryin' to coax me in with snark?"

"Not working?  How about sex, then?"

It's a joke, but it does the trick.  Bucky grabs the door handle to pull himself into a sitting position.

"That might work," He says, looking out the window to watch Steve's face.  He doesn't ever want sex to be a pity thing.  Bucky hadn't seen himself picking up that insecurity right as Steve was putting it down, but here they are.

Steve cracks a grin and leans further into the window.

“Well, lets give that a try, then.”

Bucky gets out of the car.

*

Steve left the lights on when he went out to get Bucky.  The studio apartment is cluttered, a familiar mix of abandoned clothing, half-finished artwork, and paperback novels borrowed from Natasha and Sam.  It’s warm and comfortable.

They moved in after Bucky got his discharge.  It’s hard to divorce those first few months from the place, no matter how cozy it is.

Steve takes off the kids’ bracelets, then the shirt.  Bucky suddenly finds it much easier to focus on the here and now.

He kisses the back of Steve’s neck and loops his flesh-and-blood arm around his waist.  Steve twists in his grasp, turning so they’re facing each other.  He’s less skinny these days, but Bucky is still taller, so he has to lean down to kiss him.

Steve is a passionate man.  He always kisses like he's got something to prove, one hand in Bucky's hair and the other on his ass.  It's so easy to melt into the moment, to be nothing and nobody outside of it.

After a while, Bucky breaks away, tugging on the string holding Steve's pajama pants up.

"Hey, Rogers," Bucky says, kissing Steve's jaw.  Stubble scratches his skin, but it's nice.

"Mm?" Steve isn't terribly verbal when he has a boner.

"How's a blowjob sound?"

Steve makes a low noise that roughly translates to 'yes, please'.  Reciprocity goes unsaid; the only time Steve ever failed to return the favor was thanks to a major asthma attack.

Bucky undoes the knot on Steve's pants and reaches inside to give him a squeeze.  Steve sighs and _smiles_.  They're edging up on ten years and the look on his face still gives Bucky heart palpitations.

"Lemme sit down," Steve says, nudging Bucky's shoulder.  Bucky reluctantly lets go of his dick and follows him to the bed.

Steve pushes his pants and underwear down his hips and off before he sits.  Bucky follows his example and strips army-quick.  Not much of a show, but Bucky doesn't like to linger on the reveal.  It makes him self-conscious of his scars.

Steve tosses him a pillow, which goes on the floor before Bucky gets to his knees. There are hair ties on the bedside table and Bucky grabs one to keep his hair out of his face. Steve watches him intently. This is generally the only thing Bucky ties his hair up for, and he’s pretty sure he’s giving Steve a kink.

He starts by pressing his tongue under the head of Steve’s cock, just to watch his whole body jump. Steve is polite only when it suits him, but he’s always been a gentleman in bed; he digs his nails into the blankets instead of Bucky’s shoulders like they both know he wants to.

Bucky isn’t in the mood to tease tonight. It feels better to just roll with the way Steve’s body reacts. His legs shake and he gets gradually louder as he inches towards orgasm. Bucky is the dirty talker between the two of them, but the way Steve moans makes Bucky’s world spin.

Bucky knows Steve’s tells, and doesn’t actually need the strained warning Steve gives before he's coming. Bucky leans in as far as he can handle and swallows.

It’ll take Steve a few minutes before he’s functional enough for Bucky’s turn, but Bucky is okay with that. His boyfriend is flushed, sweaty, and definitely worth looking at for however long it takes for him to recover. Steve looks back at him, his eyes a little glassy and his smile absolutely blissed out. He looks at Bucky as if he’s something wonderful.

For a brief moment, Bucky even lets himself believe it.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is [xenosaurus](http://xenosaurus.tumblr.com), come talk to me


End file.
